#i wish someone called me an evil spirit

[radarchives]

[777gojosgf]

GUILTY AS SIN?

777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…

777gojosgf: fem!reader x satoru gojo

IN WHERE :: you can’t stop thinking about him and his stupid face.

what if he’s written mine on my upper thigh…

“FUCK,” YOU EXHALED, cursing yourself for even thinking about him in this way. that your mind gradually wandered and imagined many situations of him in your brain, wanting to see how he would feel. a sloppy top lip kiss or simply a hug from him. it didn't matter how explicit it was; it was poor overall.

there was no specific reason why you were envisioning scenarios regarding the two of you. you couldn't stand him. his arrogance, refusal to be defeated, and capacity to do anything he wanted without regard for the consequences. when you were on a mission together, he spent more time taunting you than focusing on the evil spirits you were intended to defeat.

but—there was something about him. something so appealing and seductive that he had your attention and you had become accustomed to his taunts. that everytime you two were assigned to the same mission, your stomach would do a tiny flip for no apparent reason. that whenever he removed his blindfold, he could catch your breath, or when his white hair formed a mess on top of his head that was difficult to resist running your hand over.

there was no denying that you wanted him.

and you cursed him for it everyday since.

you were watching him teach the first years by showing off and breaking a specific grade curse, which got him a sneer from you. itadori looked at him with ambition and glee, which satoru simply took pride in. it was his habit to brag whenever his students were present or on a mission he had dragged them on. but when were you around? he would go to great lengths for fun. because he knew you couldn't stand it.

because he wanted to know how much effect he had on you.

however, you had no idea when your mind began to wander about him and what it would be like if it was just the two of you. what you would do if you didn’t have the ability to restrict yourself. to determine who would break first. perhaps it is you, after all, who will fall for his schemes. perhaps it was his lips that held your attention. you even started to wonder if it would be that bad if you were to crack and fall for him— what the fuck.

how could you ever consider that? perhaps there was a parasite in your head that was whispering these possibilities to you. yup! that must be it, right?

“what are you thinking about, princess?” he called out from behind and you immediately turned around, almost getting whiplash in the moment. blood ran to your face and it suddenly felt way too hot in this place, did someone turn off the air conditioning? god. get it together, you told yourself.

“don’t call me that— you showoff.” you muttered and rolled your eyes, quickly averting your gaze away from him and onto the first years who now were having an argument— more like nobara having to keep megumi and yuuji apart and stop them from ripping each other’s head off— and sighed.

you were forced to look at him when his cool fingers reached for your chin and turned your face towards his, the chilly sensation suddenly becoming rather pleasant on your heated face. there was an arrogant smirk on his face, which made you scowl and bite your lip for saying something you didn't mean. "in ten years, i haven't made you blush before, it’s quite cute, you know?"

"i’m not blushing, you idiot; it's just fucking hot in here. you always believe you're such a flirt, don't you? well, you are not." you weakly defended yourself and wished you hadn't said anything at all; now you simply appear stupid and foolish. despite your stomach flipping a thousand times a minute, you couldn't seem to look at him.

your weak defense made him laugh and amusement was drawn onto his face. “are you done rambling now?” he asked while dragging his blindfold with one finger down, blue eyes boring into yours which made you immediately go quiet and it didn’t help with the fact that you already were blushing like a maniac. “good. now tell me what you were thinking about.”

fine. two people can play this game if that’s what he wanted so badly.

“you.”

in reaction to your comment, his brow furrowed in uncertainty. what about him? when did you start thinking about him, and why now? after years of being together, innumerable missions, and losing the same people. how come you're thinking about him now?

“me?”

"you— yeah. i was thinking about you and, you know, me." you responded with confidence and a cheeky smirk on your face. you had no idea where this newfound confidence came from, but you felt a sense of satisfaction as you watched him astonished by your response. he had not expected you to think about him, let alone be with you in your mind. did this imply that he had never considered it himself?

he quickly gathered himself and glanced at you for a minute, leaning into you. "and what were we supposedly doing up there?" he poked your forehead with his index finger, making you chuckle before leaning into him, a taunting glint in your eyes. "a little along the lines of this—" you interrupted yourself with a short kiss on his jaw. he wouldn't have believed it unless you cupped his face and drew him in closer.

“oh yeah?”

"mhmm—" you replied before stepping on your tiptoes and kissing his lips softly. the light brush of your lips against his made you feel tingly all over, and just as you were ready to lean back and break it, satoru came forward and caught your lips once more in a hungry kiss. a kiss that virtually screamed that he desired this as much as you did.

you finally broke the kiss, and your body missed his gentle touch. it was tempting to lean in once more and kiss him till your last breath, but wouldn't it be more enjoyable to tease him yourself? he was ready to say something when you placed your finger on top of his lips, prompting him to raise his eyebrows. "catch me after you're done showing off, satoru."

and with that, you walked off and went ahead to deal with your own errands as you had only killed time watching him before it was time for you to do the exact same thing. you hadn’t dared to turn around and watch his clueless expression, no. instead you were bracing for what would happen later today and excitement lightened up your face.

"you're in so much trouble, princess." you just laughed after hearing him shout out faintly as you had no idea that it wasn't just an empty promise.

[rooksamoris]

Absolutely need to tell someone about this idk why it took me so long to figure it out but thanks to my job and having access to an Arabic textbook (In southeast asia where non-muslims dont use Arabic) i am bamboozled and flabberghasted to find out Jamil is the transliteration of beautiful in Arabic

i honestly adore his name because of it!! jamil <33 i can imagine him getting flustered when being called jamil, and it not being his name

"oh, ya jamil (oh, beautiful)~" he pulls his hood down over his face and averts his gaze, "you aren't as sly as you think," he mutters. his face and ears felt so warm all of a sudden.

sometimes i also wish they gave him an arabic or farsi last name too?? hanash means snake in arabic, and i literally know people with that last name.

on that topic, i do wanna mention that snakes being evil are a western concept. islamically, they have been used in various forms of art (such as in hospitals), but they are also depicted as stinging away evil spirits. the islamic tale of adam and hauwa(eve) does not have a snake that tempts them to eat from the tree, so snakes were never evil. islam also advises against killing animals, unless it is in an act of self-defense, such as during ancient times when they were used in assassination.

i could not find the article i read it from, but snakes are also used to symbolize motherhood and the divinity of mothers. the act of shedding skin is like bringing in a new life and all that jazz.

there's also the middle eastern story of shahmaran (i believe her name is 'queen of snakes' in farsi. shah = king, but her name is always translated to 'queen of snakes), a half-snake half-woman. in "one thousand and one nights" or 'alf layla wa layla', shahmaran is not portrayed as bad nor good. in some of the stories, she was respected and people wanted to earn her respect, or she was like an oracle who warned people of danger.

to this day, in kurdish folklore, shahmaran symbolizes good luck, and depictions of her can be found in some homes. even in the stories where she dies, she is more sympathetic.

anyways, i rambled a lot. here's some art of shahmaran by turkish artists, sibel dogan. dogan does a lot of traditional turkish and middle eastern artwork on saatchi art btw

[meiguicha]

Entangled Branches - Queqiao

Jingyuan x Reader

Courting is a matter that requires the utmost tact, though exceptions can be made when you're just that old

//I think this just turned into me dumping about ancient Chinese courting gifts. Poem is 秋夕 by 杜牧.

Holding a needle between your deft fingers, you embroider brilliant thread through the plain fabric, eyes focused on the prick of metal weaving in and out as the image of mandarin ducks slowly forms. One much more colourful than the other, thread of ochre and cerulean decorating the foremost bird’s feathers, the second adorned with milder shades of greys and sepias. Cyan lotus pads scattered around the two birds provide some sense of atmosphere, accompanied by scant petals, all that is left for you to do is to tidy up your ducks and add additional ripples of water.

A hand reaches to grab your scissors, snipping away the last remaining bits of orange thread that now finished the last duck. You mindlessly thread grey string through your needle, piercing through the white fabric to sew wavelets around your ducks. Your fingers ghost over each hill and ridge, feeling for imperfections that might snag. You are well aware that what you make does not have to be perfect, but your pride would not let you give someone anything less than your utmost. 

It is perfect, more than perfect. You cannot help the tightness in your chest and the soft smile that creeps up your lips, thoughts not quite racing but on the verge of. Still, you must calm your thudding heart as your hands meticulously free your fabric from its wooden confines, spreading it smooth against the wooden table. Sunlight peaks through the window by your side, verdant leaves just visible behind the elaborate frame, illuminating your work properly, you take a moment to merely let your thoughts wander. 

Spice sachets are by no means some modern gift to give your lover, perhaps more common in the days of your youth but surely not now. Back then, they were used as insect-repellent or air fresheners, some people also believed that they protected the wearer against evil spirits. Truthfully, he would have no need for it, but call you an old sentimental coot, you just could not help yourself from wanting to protect him, even in your own silly antiquated way. 

Before the thought of actually sewing the pouch comes to mind, your head immediately jumps to the basket weave of herbs long sun-dried for use. It had taken a bit of time to get them, seeing as the alchemy commission was being quite nosey about their use and you had not the heart to tell them. So you did the next best thing and lied, citing that you needed them for cooking. Of course, it was only then that they lightened up, but that did not mean that you could not feel their stares as you scurried away. 

The herbs, shrivelled and colours dulled, provide an ever so slightly scent that floated lightly through the air. A pleasant smell, one that relaxed without being excessively heady or strong. Though you had worried that such a gift would only worsen your lover’s sleeping habits, your concern for him won out in the end. 

Still, you turn away from them to work on sewing the satchel together, far easier work compared to the actual momentous task of embroidery. It goes by much faster than you expect it to, with your mind drifting to familiar faces and that even more familiar emotion. Before you know it, the satchel has taken on the shape of a lotus pouch, drawstrings and all. You attach the beads onto the strings and all that is left to do is to place your herbs in. With a delicate hand, you slowly stuff them in, layering them as if anyone would even open the pouch. 

Tugging on the drawstrings, you hold it to your chest for a moment, your eyes fluttering close and imbuing your prayers for him. To be safe and prosperous, able to do as he wishes without fear or shame, and most importantly for him, for his workload to decrease. A soft sigh escapes you, though it is not one of resignation or annoyance but rather fondness, horrid fondness.

You will find some way to slip this into his office, granted that would not be some hard act with how often he is not in. Still, there had to be some subtlety to your actions, you would ruin all the fun if you refrained from such. Of course, finishing one just means you will have to start the other. You could not possibly think of not making one for that disciple of his, especially when he just keeps getting himself in some kind of trouble. 

You shake your head as a soft smile tugs at your lips. Truly, you must have been some saviour to be granted such people. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

银烛秋光冷画屏，轻罗小扇扑流萤。

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He holds up the wooden comb up to the light, keen eyes pouring over every aspect of the humble item. Dark wood carved into elegant depictions of verdant bamboo and a crane, the tines were slender yet sturdy, spaced perfectly to glide through hair. Before him were many more options of such, each comb’s design more elaborate than the last. 

The thought of seeing any of them in your hand, fingers wrapped around the wood as you detangle your hair, works oils with that sweet scent that seems to always coax him closer, it sends a soft warmth to his limbs. He does not quite know how to explain it, a rather pitiful situation for someone known for his flattery and skillful words, but he finds that even when you are doing the most mundane things, he loves you just a little bit more. Perhaps others may call him love-addled in the head, but under soft moonlight, in nothing but your sleeping garments with your hair let down, he imagines that fond glint in your eyes and just cannot help himself but yearn to bear witness to such a sight for the rest of time. 

The idea of gifting you a comb has been borne out of spontaneity, something he is not the most familiar with but still welcome. It had been custom for combs to be gifted between lovers, a desire to grow ‘old’ with said person, and he supposes that such a sentiment is rather difficult to continue on when long-lives and mara are two very common phenomena. It is rather silly, but a comb is a practical gift and he has always believed that if given the chance, if the two of you were merely two mortals, you would be happy to watch the wrinkles appear on each other’s face and for your hair to turn grey. You would still be beautiful, aged with the years spent together and the joy evident upon your visage, crow’s feet, smile lines and all. 

When he returns to his senses, his hand has rested upon another comb. A lighter shade than the first, though the quality is still just as immaculate, the spaces between the tines are much larger, not as tightly packed as the last. Though arguably a lot less intricate than many of its predecessors, there seemed to be a certain charm to it, humble jasmine flowers carved onto the main body with a care that went far beyond ornate. The very engraving of each petal laden with care, ridge and valley of complete smoothness, the simple design far conveyed to him the vision of you than the rest.

He thumbs over the engraving, smiling to himself as he imagines you once more. Again that old image of you at your night-time routine, this time with this very comb in your hand as you call for him, your voice gentle along the night wind with the smell of sandalwood in the air. It really is foolish of him to keep musing, and yet no matter how many times he says it, he truly has been reduced to a languishing simpleton of a man when it comes to you. 

“I shall take this one,” He hums, cradling the comb in one hand as he hands it to the seller. 

The seller takes one look at it, a contemplative look appearing on their face before their brows furrow. Taking it into their own hands, they send him a complex look, not quite judgemental but surely urging, “Ah, this plain old thing? I’m certain that we have other combs you will certainly be much more interested in.”

A soft breath escapes him, mostly out of amusement than any negative sentiment. He only nods his head, reaffirming his desire for this specific comb out of the litany he was presented. 

“Apologies, but I’m quite certain.”

When the seller notes his conviction, they just accept it. They must surely still be confused at his choice but he does not see why he must explain himself, after all, when it comes to someone such as you, even he cannot explain the manner in which even the simplest things remind him of you. 

“I see, of course.”

The comb is promptly wrapped up in delicate paper and fastened with string, tied in a knot you will no doubt struggle with but will admire for all of five seconds. When it is brought back to his hands, he thanks the merchant and his chest grows warm. 

A comb for his beloved, jasmines adorning your head, surely he must have been some great saviour in his past life to be able to have such a sight. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

天街夜色凉如水，坐看牵牛织女星。

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“General, would you perchance have the time to accept this lowly one’s gift?” 

Your arrival to the seat of Divine Foresight has long been announced, a notion that Qingzu and the routine cloud knights were made aware of even before you could fathom planning your next visit. After all, when the general has come to expect your presence sliding in when everyone least expects it, you gain some perks. 

“You and your formalities,” He laughs, his voice dear to your ears. Jingyuan’s eyes, framed by those long lashes, focus upon you. Seated at his desk with mounds of scrolls to look upon, though he would usually be more than happy to be dozing off right this very moment, the energy at which he responds only boosts your excitement, “Of course I do, I’ll always have time if it's you.”

“Old sap.” Shaking your head, you can only let that fond smile appear across your face as you make your way to his desk. 

It is by no means an arduous journey, and it is not long before you are granted a full view of a certain someone’s rather smug face, almost feline-like if you will. Furthermore, you suppose you also should have expected that he would pull you closer towards him, his head all but resting on yours if not for the fact that you still needed to give him something. Still, you ignore the way your breath hitches for just a moment, the familiar scent of sandalwood and tea that clings to his form drifting to your nose and coaxing you to relax, instead you reach for the spice sachet and place it in his waiting hands. 

He accepts it readily, and it is by the slight widening of his eyes that you know he recognises exactly what you have made for him. After all, it is not like spice sachets are commonplace in this day and age. 

“See, I’ve made it so you can attach it to your belt,” Your voice is low, your head leaning against his shoulder as you fiddle with the strings. You can feel his breath fanning against you, his much larger frame a steady pillar“And it's not too long so it won’t get in your way.”

He is quiet for a moment, admiring the pouch as he turns it over and finds new details to marvel upon. Then, he speaks, voice low and teasing,“My dear, are you saying your beloved stinks?”

“No, I'm saying the air around you stinks.” Huffing, you nudge him with your elbow, a notion that he also clearly finds amusing, as he makes an over-exaggerated ‘oof’ to your light tap. 

Jingyuan only laughs at that comment, wrapping an arm around you so that you may be closer to one another. Still, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, a doting smile on his lips. He whispers, “Thank you for the gift, I’m certain your blessings will keep me safe.”

“You better, if I have to find out from Qingzu that you got some grievous injury again I think I’ll be the one going mara-struck instead.”

“Oh then whatever shall I do? I suppose I can only trouble my dear wife to take care of me so that I won’t end up in the healers again.”

At that, you barely resist the urge to butt him with your head, another overfond sound escaping his lips, sounding more like sweet birdsong to your ears that you may hear his amusement and joy so clearly. Though, it is not long until you notice the weight in your lap, some object wrapped in paper and bound in string. When you meet his gaze, he only gestures for you to open it, golden eyes glinting with some indulgent sentiment. You do so, fussing with the knot but eventually unwrapping the paper to reveal a simple wooden comb, jasmines carved onto its body. 

The breath in your lungs seems to escape you, for your words get carded in your throat and all you can muster is a pathetic, “You…” 

“You old coot, getting me a comb,” You chuckle, an attempt to hide how choked up you were. “We’ve already spent so many years together and you….”

Jingyuan looks to you, and you are certain that if a mirror were to be brought to both of your faces right this very moment, what would be found would be merely two senior citizens playing at youth. Though, with the many hardships that the centuries have put you through, you cannot quite say that  you quite mind this kind of childish tomfoolery. Why else would you call upon childhood sentiments? Why else would he choose such a gift? 

Holding up a hand to cradle his face, he leans into your touch, those soulful eyes once again meeting yours. There is such a profound affection within them that for a while, it scared you. Yet now, being the one most privy to such a sight, those eyes who hold the sun and make you yearn to protect him, it comes to you as natural as breathing. 

“What do you say, my dear?” He offers, cocking his head to the side as those mellow words sink in. 

You can only shake your head, an overly indulgent quirk of your lips pulls your lover closer. It is not the first kiss you shared, and it is certainly not the last, for there will be a long, long time before one of you meets your ends.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 2 - let the world know

“I wish I could let the world know that it’s okay to let the pain show and even though times seem bad, it always rains before the rainbow.” -A Little More by Machine Gun Kelly

Dp x DC: Regent!Jazz AU Vigilante!Jazz AU

Prompt Masterlist

In traditional Fenton luck, shit goes sideways when Jazz wasn’t looking.

The Joker breaks out of Arkham.

Now, Jazz is fully aware of the Clown’s evil-ness and Danny’s trauma with all things Circus thanks to Freakshow has her hackles raised when the spirits of Gotham start screeching in her ear mid-patrol that “Joker is free!”

Like hell the guy would stay that way.

Lady Gotham is anxiously watching the Regent stomp towards Arkham, where the Mad Clown had yet to fully leave the premises into Gotham proper.

Would Jazz kill the Clown?

Many of the Unquiet Dead of Gotham are the staunchest supporters of kill, kill, kill on a good day, but with the Clown?

They seethed, they writhed, they thirsted for their vengeance and with every life taken by the Joker, the number grew.

Jazz hated the thought of death, ironically.

It’s one thing to rule the Dead and Never-born, but to add to the Realms' population by her own hand?

(It wouldn't be the first time.)

Well, Jasmine Nightingale would have to check her morals at the door, because when Lady Gotham begins to hesitantly (then vivaciously) root for you to “please end him, dear” one has to reconsider a few things about themselves.

For instance, how would she avoid becoming the next Joker? It was a hushed confession of the Lady that made Jazz hesitate at the border between Gotham and Arkham-

A dead man's switch would trigger a Joker Venom bomb, infecting those nearby.

Would the gas affect a Liminal?

True, Jazz was very much a living being (she often woke up in a cold sweat with a hand at her neck, heart beating against her fingers), but she was Death-claimed.

Was this how Danny felt as a Halfa? Weighing the living half vs the dead to see which would win out in a fight?

Not for the first time, Jazz found herself thankful that she was only Liminal.

Heart in her throat, Jazz considered her options.

It would be easy to just run him through with her ecto-sword, a gift from her once-mentor Pandora, but she would likely have to fight her way through bats and birds to both get to and away from the Clown.

Jazz could also just ask for aid from Lady Gotham and/or the Unquiet Dead to enshroud her from vigilant eyes as she absconds with Joker to Crime Alley.

(Jazz was sure Red Hood wouldn’t mind if she dropped a dead clown at his feet. He seemed the type to appreciate a job well done.)

(If her heart raced slightly in response to that thought, no it didn’t.)

Despite all her reservations about murder, killing the clown felt like an honor for the Regent.

(Blood had long since been on her hands.)

The morning would bring chaos as the people learned of the Joker's fate, Batman's failure to return him to Arkham, and how someone finally had enough of the black furry's inaction to stop the clown.

Sometimes, inaction is just as bad as action.

(A Fenton who learned that well.)

Jazz, in full Regent armor, mounted the Joker's head at the mouth of her alleyway, the same one that she used as a checkpoint between her apartment and the Park Row graveyard. A grotesque trophy that would be used as a symbol of the Regent's authority to avenge, of her willingness to cross the line of morality.

The Unquiet Dead who owed their demise to the Joker could now pass on and Jazz could call it a night.

That was, until whatever tomorrow brought around to spite the younger Fentons.

Typical.

=============================

[This was more of a short fic rather than the prompt I first started with, but it just came to me. I want to explore some things with events leading up to Danny and Jazz in Gotham, but I'm not sure. I need help to describe Jazz's armor because I have a general idea, but I'm not sure about the details. Ideas?]

[Hopefully I'll be able to put more Regent!Jazz than Vigilante!Jazz, but I also really like Jazz as one. Bet you can't guess the name I use for her as a vigilante!]

[bokettochild]

I just saw a post asking which Link would make the best villain and....

It's Time guys

Like, I love the man, but let's be real; he's a second from snapping and committing atrocities.

Twilight is so thoroughly traumatized by the vision the spirits gave him and Fi's judgement of him that he literally can't stand messing with magic that isn't actually his own or connected to him. And while, sure, he doesn't need magic to be a villain, let's be real, it'd take something magical to force him to turn his back on everything he's ever fought for.

Similarly, Wild fought and died for his kingdom, and his people. There is nothing and no one worse than what he's already seen that could possibly make him turn his back on it all and throw his work down the drain just to destroy everything he'd built himself.

Legend is the same. he's been doing this far too long to ditch now. Granted, he's a grump, but if you look at his games, you see he's a highly empathetic and caring person. Unlike the others, who were tasked with saving the world by a mentor or friend, or had to go and save a friend or family member, or who where sworn to duty; Legend was literally some kid who was asked by an utter stranger to help, and did. Six times. No way someone like that is going to go and destroy everything.

And Wind! Wind is a moral guy, with a good heart. he set out for personal reasons and saw in his journey that there were bigger fish to fry, and he fried them. He had no reason to take it on, no call of the goddess, no responsibility, no reason for him, a child, to go and save the world as well as his sister, but he did it anyway.

Sky and Warriors are simply too devout. Warriors to the kingdom and it's people; with everything he suffered for them, you can't tell me the man isn't dedicated to serving his country. And Sky is loyal to Sun, who is Hylia, so he literally would never go against her. And by the law of the Zelda universe, villains are those who go against Hylia and Hyrule.

Four is an iffy one. Most people might say "but Vio was a villain!" but let's be real; if you read the manga, you know Vio was bluffing all along. If Vio, part of Four, didn't bow even under Shadow's influence, and Vaati's, and Ganon's, then again; who and what would drive this man to become a villain? Granted, the persuing of dark magic to bring back his lost friend could be argued, but is more likely to lead to his corruption than his attempting to take over Hyrule and kill innocents.

Hyrule is tough, since we have very little to work off of in cannon, but come on, even if Hyrule did turn to evil, he wouldn't exactly be able to do much. Hyrule's already in ruins in his time, and the monsters wouldn't hear of working beside him. He'd have everyone against him, and even if he does hold the triforce in it's entirety and thus could do all sorts of horrible things, he has neither motivation nor reason to turn away to becoming a villain.

Time though......

Time has watched the world burn and all his efforts be turned around and lost. He has lost everything so many times, usually with no reward or reason. In the end, Time, though a good man, cares more for the individual than the country. He cares about his wife and his boys, and based off the scars, we can only guess what lengths he's already gone to in order to accomplish his goals.

Time, if faced with the right issue, has every risk of dropping from defender to threat. Hyrule be damned, this man cares for his wife, his kids, his home, and if you threaten that, no matter who you are, he will go after you. He's one second away from going after Hylia and all she has done to him and those around him. He detests the Blade of Evil's bane, the symbol of Hylia's blessing. He borders every moment on the precipice of taking power beyond mortals to fulfill his own wishes, even if it is to help those he loves.

Put Malon in danger, heck, one of the boys, and Time won't let something silly like morals stop him from doing whatever it takes to protect what little that is still his and hasn't already been taken from him. He will fight tooth and nail not to lose anything else, and he won't let even the goddesses stop him.l

[weebsinstash]

Not me sitting here thinking of the most DISGUSTINGLY SELF INDULGENT shit with platonic yandere dad Lucifer that is actually making my heart hurt 😩❤️

There was a TV series called Lucifer where that devil protagonist could utilize his position as ruler of Hell, the dominion of souls who have sinned, to charm people amd look inside of them to reveal their hidden desires or true evils. He could have them spouting their real feelings or blurting out something they were ashamed of or trying to hide, and he could always sort of generally tell what people were thinking or feeling by looking at them

I can't help but think of Hazbin Lucifer having similar powers. You're a human soul down in his dominion of Hell and he can sense the quivering amd shaking of your spirit when you're lying or concealing something from him. You're sitting around the Hotel depressed and in your mind you think "God I wish I could kill myself a second time" and he's quaking out a shocked WHAT from the other end of the room and it's like, Charlie dude ummmm can your dad READ MINDS? And she's all casual, "oh yeah sure haha there's never hiding anything from him :)" and you're sitting there *duck quack sound effect* as Lucifer has basically now made you priority number 2 (priority 1 is Charlie and you're ALSO a priority for her so... you know...)

Lucifer who finds you depressed and crying and trying to bury all your sorrows in liquor and you're getting so drunk you can barely talk and it breaks his heart as a father, that you can't even walk, can barely string together a sentence, just going from inebriated joy to deep, deep sorrow while still trying to be nice to your friend's dad. He's helping scoop you off the floor as you sob your father never loved you and you deserved to die, that you should've killed yourself a long time ago, and he's asking how old you are, or, how old your soul is now, and when you answer he just looks so pained, "but you're still just a baby" and hugs you tightly as he's basically adopting you right that second

Lucifer who finds you crying/flinching in your sleep like you're having a nightmare and he goes into your head and looks at your memories and sees you're having nightmares of being struck as a child. the devil feeling this deep well of disgust gurgling inside of him as he witnesses for himself how many times you were cruelly abused just for acting like a normal kid, how many times your little heart was broken, how many times your little baby hands reached out for help from someone else only to be pushed away, and suddenly, you start having these weird dreams about being a child again. Charlie catches her dad sitting on your bed at your side while you sleep, combing his fingers through your hair as he all but mind-melds with you and she asks what he's doing. the second he tells her what he's seen and how it makes him feel and what he wants to do, she approves and wants to help

Suddenly you start having all these little dreams of being a kid again, but, they aren't scary dreams anymore... no one is bullying you here... in these dreams, you can run around and play and... and... your big sister Charlie is there. Your big sister Charlie and your dad Lucifer. You're small and vulnerable again and Lucifer will call the two of you his little ducklings as he takes your hands and tells you you've all got to hurry or you won't get good seats, and you feel an actual sense of excitement in your heart as he tells you he's taking you guys to the circus

The dream keeps going and going and it's so wonderful and FUN that at some point Charlie and Lucifer watch your little self break down crying, hugging the demonic pair as tight as you can because you know you're going to wake up and... reality is different. No one... LOVES YOU like you can feel here, and you're just bawling. This dream actually kind of makes you HORRIBLY DEPRESSED because you wake up and realize you don't actually have what you were experiencing, that it's just some weird fantasy your brain is cooking up that makes ot awkward to look at your friend and her dad

Meanwhile in the hotel Alastor is poking his head into your room to see you conked out while both Morningstars sit/lay on each side of you with their eyes closed holding your hands or some shit to form the connection and, Lucifer cracks an eye open to make direct contact with Alastor like "interrupt our family moment or say something to them about this, I fucking dare you" and for some reason, Alastor has a sinking suspicion he shouldn't push this, just this one time, or it might end badly for him...

You're waking up accidentally almost calling Lucifer Dad when you see him because you spend almost every night getting to go to amusement parks and play carnival games and eat ice cream and cotton candy with memories of a sister and father you know you don't actually have, but, wait what? Charlie and Lucifer are actually genuinely pushing to spend more time with you? What a lovely coincidence! You wake up really depressed because your 'family' isn't with you and suddenly Charlie peeks into your room and says Lucifer made pancakes for everyone and you're invited to come and you're practically racing out of bed because, oh boy a chance to recreate Dad's pancakes in real life? And that's his exact intention. He doesn't even fucking care that a certain Louisiana gentlemen is shitting on his cooking; if cooking for the whole hotel gave him an excuse to have a "family breakfast" with you and Charlie in the real world for once, he would do it

You're sitting at the table next to Charlie, awaiting your pancakes that you know were made with love and care, and when Lucifer sets down your plate in front of you, affectionately calling you Ducky just like he's done in all your dreams, you're ready to bawl your eyes out??? You're just sitting there tearing up eating homemade pancakes while Charlie is like about to start sobbing because "family is just so beautiful, waaaaaah" and pulls you and her father into a hug

'Family' huh.... it sounds nice... you wouldn't mind having people actually caring about you and looking out for you... too bad you're underestimating how attached and protective of you they already are...

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

My corporeal love (Yandere!Fem!Spirit X Fem!Reader)

CW: Yandere behavior, death

poltergeist versus ghost

(Reader) shook her head at the results, deleting the question from the search bar while heaving a deep sigh of frustration.

types of ghosts

A hand reached out from under the chair (Reader) was sitting on, running long nails across one of her feet. (Reader) only sighed again and pulled up her feet and tucked them under her bottom. Ghosts turned out to be real, and they were annoying.

The haunting began like how horror movies promised they would, soon after moving into the new apartment (Reader) began hearing scratching noises late at night and seeing lights flicker out the corner of her eye. At first it was unnerving, but exciting. Hearing a thud from the next room over and having a chuckle after the shock of being startled, it was fun. The ridiculous situation helped dull the pain of reality.

It quickly grew, making her think she saw someone hiding in the closet, only to disappear when (Reader) would flip on the light; waking to claw marks on the bedroom door when she unlocked it in the morning; feeling someone roughly grip her ass while she tried to wash the dishes...

Wild, bulging eyes watched (Reader) as she put away her computer and wandered into the kitchen to make her morning pot of coffee; the owner of said blood shot eyes was a grey toned naked woman with long, sharp nails who sat crouched on the counter.

"(Reader)~" a dry voice cooed while a dead hand reached out to lightly brush (Reader's) shoulder.

The newly single woman had once made the mistake of trying to connect with the entity she shared a home with, believing it to be a lost soul in need of assistance, only to awaken with hands traveling up her thighs and bite marks on her neck. This thing wasn't a soul in torment, but an evil spirit that didn't believe in personal space.

It fed on energy. The more attention (Reader) gave it, the stronger it became, now freely crawling across the ceiling at all hours and whispering suggestive words of praise to (Reader). Which is why (Reader) was now doing her best to ignore her.

"Your hair looks beautiful today. I wish you'd let me run my fingers through it."

A jingle sang out of (Reader's) pocket. She grabbed it a little too quickly, thankful for having something to help her ignore the spirit, but unfortunately was too eager, and didn't pay attention to the name of who was dialing, accidently answering "BASTARD"s call.

"Hello?"

"Finally you answer. I've only called you every single day for a week."

Her heart dropped. "It was an accident, I promise it won't happen again."

"Oh, grow up (Reader). I made a mistake, but you're acting like I hit you or something."

(Reader) clenched her jaw. The woman next to her slowly closed in on her as (Reader) stayed still as a statue. The undead's breathing ragged as it strained to hear who (Reader) was talking to.

"What do you want."

"To talk."

"There is nothing to talk about."

"... You're being childish."

The phone was suddenly ripped from (Reader's) hand, smacking into the wall across the kitchen. (Reader) freaked out, forgetting for a second that the strange woman in her home was an unknown entity and not just a dick.

"Fucking really?!" She cried out as she jogged over towards her cell. "Don't do that! That's my phone!" As she bent to grab it the phone slid just out of reach, her ex's voice still angrily berating her. (Reader) stood, glaring at the approaching thing shuffling on all fours like a gorilla.

She smiled, her buggy eyes still wide and terrifyingly dark, pupils expanded to the point (Reader) couldn't see the irises.

"You deserve better."

Then, poof. She was gone.

(Reader) was stunned. She could still hear the cheater calling out her name from the phone on the floor. For a third time that morning, (Reader) found herself sighing.

"Hey!" (Reader) called out, never having learned her ghostly roommate's name. She passed through every room until she heard scratching from the closet, and opened the door without turning on the light in an attempt to prevent her from disappearing again. The spirit was lying on the ground, scratching at the floor, leaving marks.

"I never found out your name."

"I don't remember it."

(Reader) sat criss cross outside the opened door. "What's wrong?"

"... What if he hurts you?"

"He wouldn't. He's a dick, but he's also chicken shit. I left him because he cheated on me. He doesn't even know where I live now." The ghost seemed unconvinced. "I promise."

She took a deep breath, gurgling slightly as she always did. "I don't remember my name. I don't remember who killed me. But I can feel my bones breaking down in the cement of this building."

Guilt over how (Reader) had been treating the dead woman settled heavy into her gut. Even if she got a little handsy, it was probably lonely being invisible to everyone.

"That sounds terrible. I'm sorry." (Reader) laid down next to her, and she immediately rolled over and latched onto (Reader's) body, her nails digging into (Reader's) back. Her body was cold, and not entirely solid, (Reader) believed she could feel the nude flesh sinking through her shirt, freezing her bare skin underneath.

"I'll protect you, (Reader). I don't want you to end up like me... The pain never ends."

The next two weeks flew by. (Reader) had nicknamed the spirit Lydia. She didn't get the reference and was just happy that (Reader) was calling her something other than "Hey, you". Lydia still had issues with getting too handsy every so often, but as (Reader) came to know her as a person instead of a presence she hated it less and less.

Lydia sat in (Reader's) lap as they watched television together. Her form was stronger than ever, and although she was still cold, Lydia felt like a real human next to (Reader). The connection (Reader) felt with Lydia was comforting, and she had even begun to care for her as someone more than a friend.

(Reader) unlocked the door, opening it to reveal her ex boyfriend standing on her welcome mat with a smug look on his face.

Someone pounded on the front door, banging it hard enough to shake the joints and cause the hinges to clatter. Lydia was immediately agitated, dissipating from view. (Reader) could still feel her presence though, a chill settling in the heavy air, and as she rushed to the front door it felt like she was wading through fog.

She tried to reclose the door the second she registered his face, but he used his foot to block her attempt, bulldozing his way into her new home. "That's no way to greet someone." He chastised.

Her face scrunched up in fear. "How did you find me?"

"Not easily."

(Reader) tried to hold herself steady, but she could feel her body shake with anger. "You need to leave before I call the cops."

"The cops?!" He laughed in annoyance, glancing around his ex's apartment with his hands on his hips. "Jesus Christ, you're acting like a crazy bitch."

Lydia dropped something in the bedroom, and with the crash (Reader's) ex's smile fell as well.

"Is someone here?" He started for the hallway as (Reader) panicked.

"Stop! I told you to leave!"

He burst into the bedroom, searching for whoever had made the noise. Then the door shut on it's own behind him.

"What the hell, (Reader)? Is this some kind of joke?!"

A shuttering gasp emanated from under the bed. Lydia's scarred arms slowly began to drag her body out from underneath the frame, relying on the intruder's fear to make herself visible to him. The man began shaking the handle, incapable of opening the door.

"(Reader)!"

Lydia's body cracked painfully as she stood up straight.

"(Reader! Open the door!!"

"Stop saying her name."

Whipping back around he found himself alone, the broken looking woman gone. He felt his body go numb with adrenaline. (Reader's) ex was panting, trying to figure out what kind of fucked up prank this was, and how (Reader) could have set it up. When he realized the woman was probably hiding again, he turned back to try opening the door again, only to turn face to face with wide black eyes twitching with rage. Lydia grabbed his face, her nails piercing his cheeks and jaw.

From the living room (Reader) could hear her ex scream in fear, smashing against her bedroom walls and ceiling, then silence.

The police would never find his body.

Stored deep inside the building itself, resting between concrete and steel beams, bleeding into the cement block that was Lydia's final resting place. They would never find even a drop of blood in (Reader's) home.

After the noises had ceased, (Reader) heard the door unlock, so she ran into the bedroom to greet Lydia, throwing her arms around her and kissing her gently. Lydia softly crept her hands up under (Reader's) shirt, caressing her bare back.

"I told you I would protect you."

[class1akids]

There are some things I wish Horikoshi didn’t add to the manga, but one of them is Touya trying to attack baby Shouto as a child 😭 I know it was to show how far Enji pushed Touya, but the way it invoked so many people just downright labelling Touya as evil from the beginning or insane from the start is frustrating! Especially when your trying to explain how he was a child lashing out unhealthily sure, because of his father’s actions(or maybe lack of actions), but they want to say “that child was clearly wrong in the head from the beginning”! Touya to me also shows that people are not willing to sympathise/empathise with a victim that would be classed as a “bad victim”, to the point that they’ll even downplay/compare or even defend or deny the abuse!

I wouldn't change a single thing about Touya. He's such a perfect villain for the Todoroki plot - with very nuanced writing. I love how the his "flaws" and "strength" reflect closely his father's character, how the closest Enji came to love was with Touya, how their relationship got sacrificed to Enji's egoistic quest for strength and power and how as a villain Dabi has become the grotesque caricature everything Endeavor wanted. He's the perfect vengeful spirit to come back and make sure that the past never dies.

At the same time, Touya is also a very lovable little boy with great characterization - much more vivid than any other child character in the manga. I love how he's also a perfect shadow for Shouto - a possible future self who was swallowed by the justified resentment and trauma. So their dynamic is a very different one - one of empathy and trying to save that shadow, while Touya provides also a mirror to a part of his legacy he's been running away from (the drive, ambition, perseverance that Touya and Enji share, but Shouto shies away from).

I think the main point of Touya's breakdown scene other than to show how desparate and out-of-control Touya was becoming from the mental torture of being ignored and replaced was to show how cruel and stupid Endeavor's reaction was to what should have been a wake-up call. Instead of helping his child, his solution was to ignore Touya harder.

Any normal parent would have taken a hard look at their own parenting, see that the breakdown was small child's cry for help and change course. Instead of that, Endeavor doubled down, spent more time away from home, banished his "failures" into another part of the house and ignored them even harder.

And yeah, there are moronic takes about Touya, but I think he is a very fascinating character. Yes, a "bad victim", but someone with agency who drives forward his story and narrative. I think what Horikoshi presented with him is a much more unique character than having a "good old brother killed by Endeavor" kind of character that people anticipated.

[ode-to-fury]

You know, in any other piece of media I would never advise this but specifically in datv case I think the game really could have benefitted from acknowledging the problems with the writing more. I think a lot of people may disagree with me and I don't know if I really know how I want to say this but if you just... acknowledge things that are in the game with a little bit of nuance? Like the Veil dilemma. I wish the veil had come down because the whole southern blight thing really makes the veil not coming down obsolete. We were trying not to kill thousands of people but thousands of people died anyway so whats the difference? You're just shifting the blame from solas onto rook but they dont ever aknowledge that in the game? Let Rook have one line about it being their fault that the gods are out ADDRESS THAT IN THE FUCKING REGRET PRISON. Let the game say "ok maybe tearing down the veil isnt what we want to happen but there are real and serious reasons that solas may want to persue this course of action" instead of being like "haha solas is so dumb and stupid and evil and of course we are in the right" because if you think about it? Not bringing down the veil means the spirits are still getting the short end of the stick. This was set out in inquisition? Just admit that you said that and dont try and change it? Or the blight. If you don't know what happens to the blight post game, just say so? Have a line where someone says "we dont know whats going to happen with the blight now that the evanuris are gone" and then you can leave it to fan interpretation or future games but at least theres something there telling me you thought about it and havent FORGOTTEN WHAT THE CALLING MEANS (because my definition of the calling and john eplers definition are two extremely different things and his is wrong). The crows, you need one line of dialogue to fix the crows. And not even pc dialogue, it can be ambient. Give me something. Give me a line. I understand there were budget and time restrictions, but if you just acknowledge that there's things you couldn't expand on as much as you wanted to instead of treating the player like they should know to make it up in their head or treating them like they're stupid for caring, it would already be better.

[hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha]

詐欺師...

"詐欺師... [sagishi...]"

╰┈➤ ❝𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫❞

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 -> 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛

Definition: deliberately cause (someone) to believe something that is not true, especially for personal gain.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜�� 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞."

Hantengu x Fem!Reader [Drabble]

Synopsis: She is yet again given another reminder of why she shut herself away...

Warnings: Very brief mention of NSFW at Karaku's part.

Reader key features + fact: You're taller than Urami (choose your height). You're also some glowing ethereal being who tries to help humanity but you've been betrayed by someone who you trusted with this goal also.

Note: MKX's Shinnok's one quote when he curses at Johnny, Sonya and Kenshi motivated me to do this. Good way to kickstart my writing mind.

Ever since that day, she refused to let anyone have the privilege of gaining her trust once more and thus shut herself away...

This was the first time she had ever been with someone so close after millenia. It was difficult to trust someone again after the betrayal she had gone through, but this kind gentleman had gotten her to open up once more as he was welcomed into her sanctuary. He is such a sensitive and rather 'weak' individual, but she did not judge him for that, not in the slightest. In fact, it gave him a sort of charm that no other had. "You and alters amuse me." Said the giantess as she looked down at her small companion in her palm. "I-I do?" The man – more specifically, demon – replied as he tilted his small head up to look at his bigger lady friend. "I've been on my own for quite some time. It's nice to talk to someone or people." The woman chuckled at the irony of Hantengu being an individual yet not at the same time. She found it quite odd at first and was curious too, however, she gradually grew used to all of them and their personalities and came to enjoy their company very much.

The first time she met him, he was a sobbing mess. She pitied him greatly and thus allowed him to find solace and peace within her temple, giving him as much time as he needed to calm down. She wasn't very willing to speak to him the first time but overtime, he kept appearing until she took the initiative. To her, it was the best decision she's ever made as she learned of the evils committed against him. The woman would come to learn of so-called Demon Slayers committing crimes against him and his race. They could not help that they fed off of humans and it was now also her goal to ensure that his race have a place in the paradise she wishes to bring upon the living. That she promised him. Hantengu on the other hand, couldn't help but be moved by her vow to him despite being actively aware of his 'half truths'. However, what he told her wasn't a lie. It was the truth! He is innocent!

There are many times she finds one of the Hantengus finding solace in her presence. Even the loudest clone, Urogi, finds himself being surprisingly peaceful when he's around her. "What is your place in this world?" He asked curiously as he perched on her broad shoulder. "I am here to better it, no matter how long it takes, no matter how gruelling the process may be. I am here to better it for all the innocent who suffer from the cruelties of evil." The woman he could only describe as a sort of 'guardian', responded with a gentle smile before raising a hand to caress her harpy demon companion's handsome face. Urogi trilled in joy before rubbing his head against hers and taking flight, cawing and making other bird calls for her as he flew around her. She much enjoyed Urogi's companionship because of how easily he is able to lift her spirits. He isn't the clone of joy for nothing. "Come, dear. I want to show you something." The giantess beckons Urogi to follow as she leads him towards a space that doesn't quite make sense. A space much like the Infinity Castle, however, out in a void with many floating islands and starts in the distance. The dimension was filled with muted colours of purple, grey with the brightest colour being a glowing yellow.

The harpy demon looked around with curiosity and shock as he noticed his entire form get changed to match the same colours of the realm. Only the guardian kept hers as her glow brightens which almost calls to him as he then sticks to her side like glue. The clone of joy also realised how gravity seems to be a much less than what he's used, much to his amusement. "This is the Realm of Forgotten Souls... A place for those I punish." Despite her soft and gentle tone, there is a sort of sharpness in her eyes that intimidates even him, the mighty Upper Four. He nods softly as his eyes scan as much as they can, intrigued by this odd vacuum of islands and trees and giant glowing crystals. This was all so odd to him. "This is a place I do not come to often..." A hint of solemnity was present in her voice, he realised this place must be quite grim. "But it is a punishment for those who commit acts of evil. Your sense of justice, especially Zohakuten pushed me into showing you this. Thank you, for contributing."

He never saw much of that place again and never asked of it either. He only cared for his amusement. Part of his sick mind was amused that this guardian of sorts was under the impression that he and the others were saviours to their own race who strive for justice. He only knows that he himself is innocent, a delusion he shares with his main body. Otherwise, Urogi sees a human just like any demon. Mere cattle. A delicacy for his etched tongue. The others thought much the same and showed little care in changing their ways. However, it would come as a surprise to all of them that Hantengu would have a rapidly ever growing fondness for this giantess and she much the same. Being the same person of different stages in life, they too felt a growing affection towards her and began putting effort in keeping their grotesque ways hidden from her pure eyes. That's what they all began to view her as. A pure woman and strong woman with intentions so great, so good, that they honestly believed that humanity didn't deserve her as their saviour, but rather just him. Hantengu deserved her and he would make it a point to show her. Hantengu is the one she saw the most. He would often be resting in her palm as she and him gazed up at the stars peacefully without him constantly chatter of those who wrong him.

He would find himself listening to her gentle voice, "I can't help but like you more and more, dear. Is it some charm of yours I'm not aware of?" and admiring her glowing face as she looked at him with kind eyes before being surprised by a sweet kiss on his forehead. "If that's what it is, then it worked rather flawlessly, I'd say." She smiled softly at her small demon companion who was currently stuttering to the point where he couldn't even speak. It was then that he knew he needed to court her. Sekido would begin to visit her more often in her Garden of Virtue. He would bask in her divine light that caused him no harm as he would make conversation with her, growing closer the same way Hantengu did. "Your radiance has intrigued me from the moment we met. Perhaps we were fated to come across one another." He mused absentmindedly, unknowingly causing his giantess to slowly fall for him harder. His deep and gruff voice had always sounded pleasant to her ears. It was firm, filled with a fire and determination that she greatly admired. "Mayhaps, dear." She responds softly, smiling fondly at Sekido who merely grabbed her hand gently without a hint of shame. Sekido is the more calm and serious one when it comes to courting her, much like Aizetsu who is a tad more vulnerable.

Surprisingly enough, he was the one who managed to coax her into exploring the outside world once more and he's the one who ultimately had the privilege of connecting his lips with hers first. It was sweet filled with much passion yet a surprising bit of innocence from the guardian herself. Instantly, he realised that she's never had a man, much to his surprise. However, things seem to be in his favour as he and his clones have a considerate amount experience with women (fucking whores). Sekido continued kissing her with a surprising amount of gentleness, pulling her shrunken frame closer to his toned one. The kiss had left her feeling weak all over despite it holding a surprising amount of chasteness and an equal amount of passion. That night had strengthened their bond even more and when they returned, she her fondness for her companion(s) grew more and more. "You are... charming." "As are you, my heavenly light." 'Light' or 'Star' were the nicknames Sekido had given to her. Star being for the bright lights in the sky that reminded him of her, and Light being the heavenly light that shines upon those virtuous like himself.

Urogi had the easiest time courting her. He brought her many things (that did not include flesh and blood) as gifts and trinkets of appreciation and showed her what great fun "life" could be. The very first thing he did was take her to the skies after having requested of her to shrink her size. "Shrink, there's something I want to show you." "Okay?" He was pleasantly surprised when she complied and waited to see what he would do. Urogi did quite startle her when he suddenly charged at her with his wings flared before he was in the sky within a second, but that soon changed to joyous and awe-struck laughter when she realised what he was doing. He had privilege of seeing her glowing eyes look around and at him with much joy and awe, it was clear to him that she had isolated herself after her betrayal and couldn't help but pity her slightly. He made sure to give her a show to remember. "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" And he was quite bold with it too. By the time they returned, he had successfully managed to strengthen her attachment to him which he was quite proud of. "A smile does your face better, you know?" "Thank you."

Aizetsu was far more gentle and romantic. He, much like the emotion he is manifested from, was there for her in her most vulnerable. He was the reason she opened up so easily. He saw her tears and couldn't help but feel so much pity for her as she hid her face in her hands which were unable to contain her almost never-ending tears that flowed like raging waters breaking down a dam. "I was... betrayed. Trapped and imprisoned after having stolen everything." This person she once trusted was a friend. A friend whom she thought shared the same ideals or... once shared the same ideals. "Power corrupts and (s)he fell into that never-ending abyss of greed." The clone of sorrow came to learn that her prison was a realm of floating islands with dead trees while she was changed to the biggest one. She was only freed by chance and sought revenge. "Did you get your revenge?" The giantess only stared in the distance with her glowing tear glazed eyes, not saying a word or nodding her head. Aizetsu knew what her answer was. The demon of sorrow made sure to never ask her that question again, not wanting to bring up any unwanted memories.

Instead, he used what he learned and comforted her, healed her bruised heart and her repaired her fractured trust. Aizetsu often engaged in quality time and allowed himself to be vulnerable with her, told her what woes his sorrowful heart carries whenever he had the time and noticed that she appreciated such vulnerability. His compassion is the reason for the many blessings they have received from her in battle. It's why they even killed a three Hashiras. "It takes much bravery to be open like this." "... Indeed." "Thank you." Aizetsu knew what trouble she has to open up once more and he aided her into being vulnerable, to show her that not everything in this world is deceives. Then follows Karaku's courting. His way of courting her is far more... direct. Unlike the others – with the exception of Urogi – who tried to keep their feelings at a minimum, Karaku did not even attempt to do so. He flirted with her often, albeit respectfully and made brave yet brazen moves on her also. It's one of the main reason, she shrunk down to their level. His physical affections were much too enticing and charming to resist, and his words even more so.

"My, my, I truly feel sorry for you, my lovely star. Truly have you had no man compliment what a beautiful frame you have been blessed with? No man as chivalrous as myself?" He even changed his rather lazy and informal way of speaking just for her. The emerald-eyed demon grabbed her by the waist gently and twirled her around, eliciting a giggle out of her. "Then let me be the first to say that you have a lovely frame. You're delicious eye candy." He made sure to emphasise his words using the sharpness of his voice to make it sound more... enticing. His intentions with her were quite clear, yet he knew that she couldn't tell. He, like his clones, were very much aware of her purity and Karaku intended on winning her true affections... The demon of pleasure had come up with many ways of gaining her trust and affections though he particularly stuck to one. Simple flirting and seductive gestures or behaviour. It came as no surprise to him that it soon worked in his favour. "This is how a man makes a woman feel..." He could remember the way her voice sounded, the way she called out to him, "Karaku..." and the way he moved her innocent body. He could remember the way he had touched her and the way she had touched him so shyly. He could remember how she he had exhausted her. He could remember how she felt...

Karaku's little contribution was the final nail in the coffin. No more had to be done, yet they continued anyways. Urami and Zohakuten finally made their appearance, nothing else was needed except to protect her with almost their lives. "You two are quite a surprise. Seeing you is like seeing a blue moon." The two were humbled by her presence and did not much but spend their time with her without the interruption of the other four. "We waited for the other four to finish courting you, that way, we wouldn't be interrupted by their monkey business." She couldn't help but chuckle at Urami's way of describing his younger selves. The woman found them quite charming, despite it being "money business". "He's right. They can be quite... overbearing." It's their arrogance at being the main four that makes them want everything and they couldn't exactly blame them since they share the same amount of ego, but it is quite irritating. Ultimately, Zohakuten and Urami were the ones who ensured that nothing of what they do got to her. Hence why they specifically requested her to take Hantengu elsewhere in battles since that where the meet more often than in her own home.

Hantengu, Zohakuten and Urami all had their share with her for a a few nights and days to follow seeing as the four were now sated enough for them to be left at peace. "I will try to better this place for your race also..." They then heard her speak solemnly. "The humans are the plague of this world." But she disagreed. Their giantess explained to them why they too suffer, wanting to show her way of of thinking and life. They only listened in silence to her passionate speech. The night was rather peaceful and uneventful, just as they had wished. Their mere presence was enough for one another. With all that was done for her, she too wanted to learn more of him. His entire life actually. However, she came to the discouraging fact that he remembered nothing of his human life, only mere fractions which was far too little for her. So, one day, she looked into his past, eager the learn more of her new lover and to perhaps surprise him.

He was no sweetheart, it seems. A murderer, a liar and manipulator of the worst kind. She could not possibly fathom how one could so easily kill their own kin and the very person who helped bring such beauty to life. His race was the bane of humanity's existence. That's why the "villain Slayers" want them gone. It was then she remembered why she had isolated herself from others, child or not...

"MISERABLE WRETCH! INSIGNIFICANT SPEC OF FECULENT SCUM! HOW DARE YOU!"

The five jumped back in surprise at her booming voice and powerful glare. They wondered why she was angry at them. What had they done? "It is YOU!!! You are the reason they suffer also!" They realised that this was no joke, she was yelling at them in anger and scorn. All the love and affection they had once known in her entire demeanour was gone, just like that. "My radiant star, what do you mean? Please, calm yourself!" Aizetsu was the first to speak up. The first to dare so bravely. "How dare you lie to me!!" The accusation of lying prompted Hantengu to speak up. Merely an accusation against him caused him to speak despite his cowardly personality. "N-No! N-Never! I-I've never.. I-I've nev-ver lied! Not t-to you!" But the she wasn't listening. She wouldn't listen, not to a monster, a beast, a savage like him. "You killed your CHILDREN! WIVES! And those poor souls you devoured! What had they done, beast?!" They backed away, tensing up and preparing to defend themselves should their once lover now enemy attack them.

"What had they done to deserve death?! ANSWER ME, BEAST!" The bright light she emitted that once provided them with comfort and warmth, peace and a sense of security, now filled them with nothing but fear. The guardian refused to let them leave and trapped them with her magic, trapping them in chains and disarming them. "My lovely—" "DO NOT REFER TO ME AS SUCH, BEAST!!" It was futile. She refused to listen and they realised that she would kill them if they did not escape as soon as possible. Hantengu ceased his struggle and attempts to convince his once lover of his innocence, only searching for an escape while his clones distracted her. The words he heard stung his still heart as he truly believed that he had been betrayed. "DECEIVER!!" He truly believed that he was wronged, that he was no monster to humanity and that he was virtuous. In the end, his captivity did not last long as he was soon freed of his restraints, disappearing into thin air and leaving her there, standing alone and allowing the truth of the person she trusted sink in. Yet even after they left, she was still able to say her final words to him, her ghastly voice echoing in his mind filled with scorn and disgust. "I will purge your race off of the face of this Earth and free humanity of your master's vile clutches."

"And you, my love, will pay the ultimate price for using me for your disgusting gain and ideals. I will see to it that you are freed from your master's control and back in my grasp. You will have the privilege of feeling and witnessing my wrath..."

Deceiver...

Note: My favourite drabble yet. He's a good liar.

Divider credits:

Pink hand drawn divider

The rest by Saradika

Taglist:

@hawnkoii @fallstreakfeathers @dreamcorechild @lumitylovepill @hantengus-fuckass-clones @sunbrokenswords @georgette-mademoiselle @hearts4mitsuri @star-dust-wanderer @shytastemakerthing

New member :D : @karmalizedpixie

[rascalentertainments]

Wish Granted AU: Gabo 😡

THE ANARCHIST— I mean grumpy boi is finally done! I've been wanting to show me redesign of him for ages, and I finally found the time! That being said, I can drop a little more lore not only for Gabo, but for Wish Granted's version of Rosas.

Design wise, he's still inspired by Grumpy, but I added a little more detail from his concept version. It looks like all the teens clothing were really leaning into the Dwarves reference, but it got changed later. Most of the citizens of Rosas wear more regal attire, but their outfits look strangely similar in color and length, with only the style being different. Gabo refuses to wear those conforming clothes, so he wears a really basic outfit that's just a vest (with the rose symbol ripped off) and undershirt. His mom makes him wear the hat though. 😂

(Here's one of his original outfits. It actually looks more unique.)

And notice this little detail here? 👇 Gabo had a dagger at one point.

GABO HAD A DAGGER. The angry guy had a weapon and they cut it out?! You know how hilarious that is?! If this kingdom is so safe, why did he need a weapon? I like to think Gabo had it to defend himself because the original version of Rosas had some shady things happening with the royals. So I'm keeping that little accessory in my AU as well.

Gabo does have a little scar on his face that he likes to call his "battle wound". He claims he got it from fighting off a guard single handedly and got cut by the guard's sword. No one really believes it though.

No offense to people who like the canon movie, but to me, Canon!Gabo was kind of an asshole. Like, the insults weren't even funny, he just was saying mean things to his friends. And the fact that Perrito's voice actor is Gabo makes it sadder. Aside from his best line "What are you, five?" I didn't really like his portrayal.

Wish Granted Gabo's his personality is SASS. Lots of it. 😂 He's also sarcastic, pretty easy to annoy, and pessimistic. However, he can keep a secret better than anyone in the kingdom. Gabo can come off as a jerk sometimes, but he's still got a good heart. He just wants Rosas to finally wake up and smell the.....roses. (That was a bad joke) Especially when finding out Asha wants to take down the royals and is proven right about his belief that the royals are evil. Gabo does have to get adjusted to Star, though. He's a little too happy for his taste, but deep down he's glad to have someone more upbeat around. And he found a kindred spirit with Asha, both of them hate the rulers, are pessimistic and want to tear down the monarchy! Of course he's gonna help them!

Now for some facts about him:

• Gabo is the youngest of the teens, being 15 years old. Though some think he acts younger.

• He's voiced by Landon McDonald.

• He has a mother who is just a regular citizen who's a jewelry maker, (OG Seven Dwarves nod) and is very loyal to the king and queen since they provided a home for them. She doesn't approve of Gabo's anarchist behavior and tries to get him to show a little respect to them. Gabo is also an only child, so its just him and his mom.

•The reason Gabo has become the resident conspiracy theorist is because he actually saw a few of the local citizens disappear shortly after they expressed their discontent with Magnifico not granting their wishes. They were growing suspicious on why it was taking YEARS to grant. One shopkeeper stated he was going to leave Rosas and demand his wish back. Gabo hasn't seen him since. Since then, he's been trying to warn the people that the royals are evil, but nobody believes him. However, Magnifico and Amaya haven't silenced him because he's literally no threat.

• He causes minor problems like breaking the mirror in the center of town, defacing the royals statues, and basically destroying anything that idolizes them. Its his way of fighting back, little by little. This really pisses off Flazino because he has to fix it every single time. Gabo loves screwing with Flazino since he works for the royals, but he has no idea Flazino is a double agent.

• He actually got that scar from Sabor, who caught him sneaking around looking for a dungeon he believes is where the missing citizens are. It left a really deep cut, so it didn't fully heal.

•Gabo does have a wish, but he doesn't want to give it to Magnifico and Amaya for obvious reasons. He also refuses talk about his wish with the Teens or Asha. His wish is to have some friends.

• Finding out he was right about the royals being evil, the dungeon, the missing people, and literally everything he was shouting about is great. HE IS LIVID RIGHT NOW.

•Most of the teens don't really like Gabo since he causes trouble (Dario and Hal seem to be fine with him), but he has major beef with Simon since he's the one chasing Gabo a lot. He's also on Dahlia's bad side because he destroys her Magnifico and Amaya shaped cookies whenever he gets the chance. Soooooo Dahlia is REALLY reluctant on helping Asha knowing he's with her.

Kind of referencing Grumpy and Doc arguing with each other a lot from the original film.

• Gabo might be asexual? I'm dropping a few hints in the story, but I'm not sure if I want to fully make it canonical. One reason is because I kind of got that vibe from the canon Wish movie. And Harvey Guillen is queer in real life so its possible Canon!Gabo is too. I don't think Disney has ever had an openly asexual character in a movie or series either. Second reason is because I don't want to just write stereotypical things for him or just throw it in for no reason. I have a few ace friends here and on YouTube, so I want to learn a little more about how it works for asexual people before making it canon.

And there you have it! The other teens will get full redesigns later on, I just wanted to show Gabo first. Since I'll be busy this week, the only thing I will draw out is the rough draft for the first teaser poster so I can get some help on it. And the next chapter will be written after Christmas. See ya!

@your-ne1ghbor @tumblingdownthefoxden @oh-shtars @chillwildwave

@annymation @thesafireartist @snackara @pinkninja0708

@uva124 @jojo-ker06 @kenihewa

[fairytale-poll]

SEMIFINAL ROUND, MATCH 2 OUT OF 2!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Bug:

Their a bug that falls in love with a human they rescue and becomes human, but even when they don't get to keep their human body, they still get to be with their love. It's a sci-fi fairytale musical.

Little Mermaid meets Starship Troopers musical starring awesome puppets and the most trans coded main character ever. Please. Please vote Bug Starship I love him. Go watch Kick it Up a Notch from Starship. Go watch Status Quo from Starship. You will understand.

He's a bug and he lives in space on a bug planet but he really wants to be a starship ranger which you can only be if you are a human and then one day a spaceship lands on his planet and so he goes to an evil bug called Pincer who then helps him become a human. And Bug falls in love with a human on the spaceship and it's very sweet. The musical and storyline are based on the little mermaid story, the creators themselves called it "the little mermaid but in space". Bug wanting to be a human/a starship ranger and achieving that and falling in love with a human is very much like the little mermaid

Starship is a musical that can only be described as The Little Mermaid meets Starship Troopers. It follows Bug, an alien bug who dreams of being a Starship Ranger, a galactic explorer/soldier, but the rigid confines of bug society keeps him trapped in a job he hates. He reaches a Starship Ranger named February from the hive and immediately falls in love with her. In order to be with her and pursue his dream, he makes a deal with a giant scorpion named Pincer who through sci-fi bs gives him a human body. Near the end of the second act he sacrifices his human body and returns to his bug body, and saves the day and wins February's heart. It's truly the ultimate Little Mermaid. He has multiple songs, and his bug body is portrayed by a puppet!! Vote for Bug!!

“It's a big, big, universe So many dimensions And unanswered questions Not to mention Life What an invention Life There's no choice involved in what you are given One mind, one voice, one body to live in It's a short, small thing we lead With so much potential Pointless or essential Which one can I be? Where do I fit? Where do I stand? Who are they to say what I am? And how can I stay inside this awful world I know? I need a way out I need an escape I'd rather be dead than to live in this place I wish that something or someone could just take it all away Someone take me away” dear god….. can anybody hear me…. (song from starship)

They are the purest little mermaid adaptation done in the most unuque way. An alien insect gets turned into a human, a race he has always loved and admired, to be with the woman he fell in love with. Also just a great musical.

Bug's whole arc is so so in tune with that of the little mermaid. He is an alien who has fallen in love with humanity through a crashed spaceship and trades his place in the hive for a chance to be with both with the human he's falling for and to be a Starship Ranger. He body swaps with human in a cryogenic pod! It's literally sci-fi Little Mermaid!

Original Fairytale:

The OG, she suffered so much more than Ariel in the Disney version, and gave up her love for Christianity. When she's turned into a human her feet are in agony with every step, but she dances anyway to enchant the Prince. The Prince marries a princess who found him after the Little Mermaid rescued him. The Little Mermaid is distraught at the prince marrying another, so her sisters give her a dagger from the Sea Witch that will turn her back into a mermaid if she kills him. She refuses to kill him, and then she turns into sea foam and dies, but because she was a good person she becomes a spirit of the air and does good deeds for 300 years until she dies again, gains a soul, and goes to Heaven.

[redux-iterum]

Putting this in an image to avoid spoilers. This is a very fun conversation topic, and I am also surprised it's never come up! Allow a ramble, if you would.

I think canon StarClan is a fucking mess, to be blunt, but that's not an unusual opinion. Their power levels change sporadically, there's no consistency with their actions, and let's not forget the complete absurdity of cats not believing in them when their existence is so blatant that they have to actively choose to hide themselves from the Clan atheists to let them keep living their fantasy of there being no StarClan. They can either be hugely beneficial or manipulative and cruel, which seems to be decided by what the script calls for per book. Which is not rare - everyone's personalities and behaviors are decided by the plot, not their own characters - but for an entire group, and the most significant part of the Clan belief system, it's extreme.

StarClan is a benevolent union of spirits from all four Clans, only wanting what's best for their descendants, but now they're lying to a molly that she's barren so she'll raise her sister's illegal kits, and then putting both of them on trial to see if they deserve to join the afterlife of bliss and peace. The dead are immortal spirits, but now they can fade away or be killed again and they still need to hunt prey to survive (which I have so many questions about, but we won't get into it here). StarClan can appear in the "flesh" to the living at any time and have no limits on what they can communicate, but they send out useless, vague-as-hell prophecies and leave the living to scramble around, trying to find a solution on their own before everyone dies. And that's the surface-level problems! There's so much more!

I think the main source of these issues is that StarClan got too literal instead of mythical. In the first arc, the full reveal of StarClan's spirits in Firestar's leadership ceremony was a big deal, and the most significant and longest time they'd ever appeared. Before that, their whispers and vague images were all Firestar ever got in his dreams. However, instead of keeping their extended presence as a rare thing that only happened in big "holy shit" moments, the writers added more and more scenes with StarClan cats in them throughout the later books. Now there's no question that they're real - but if they're real, and they can show up as often as they like, why aren't they helping the living more? Why are they letting cats struggle and die painful deaths? And then they can physically affect things in the real world! And speak to anyone! And kill evil spirits whenever they want! This opens up so many issues and questions that the books are not equipped to handle, and no one's thought deeply enough to answer satisfactorily.

If it had been up to me, I would have kept them as whispers in the ears of medicine cats, never appearing except in the most dire of circumstances. Sure, as the story continues, it'd be harder and harder to deny their existence in the narrative, but individual characters who don't hear them can easily believe they aren't real, because they don't show themselves very often and the Clans are pretty much entirely on their own unless something that could spell the end of all of them requires ghosts stepping in directly. I've heard the idea that StarClan cats lose a bit of themselves every time they directly appear in front of someone, and that cost is what keeps them from showing up. I like that idea a lot, and I think it would have saved the writers some trouble. I'd also remove seeing dead characters so often, because them appearing after they die robs their deaths of their significance. Maybe you've got a particularly stubborn soul who insists on popping in to do whatever they can to help the Clans, but that cost of losing themselves ends with them disappearing entirely forever.

Iunno. That's all the thoughts I could think of right now. Bottom line is that StarClan is a narrative mess and I wish it had been better thought out.

[xuchiya]

"Aughost!" || choi jongho || part.one

| genre: ghost! jongho. slice of life. angst. | mentions: death. past life. | [final] part two this is to make up for you guys and for the chapters for my mini-series of Hongjoong (GO CHECK IT OUT "DIFFERENT [LOVE] LANGAUGE). I am a little busy with the other chapters and I have to re-write some of them since I plan of uploading them all of at once.

“— please I do not judge— but yeah you match the “match” of this ajumma that helps me that could help me in going back to my body. I’m Jongho, by the way.” 

“WHAT THE FU—!”

Your mom used to say something about the gates of Hell opening in the month of August. She spoke with mere belief, yet there was a fear in her eyes that intrigued you—an unusual thing to see in someone as strong as her. She mentioned how evil spirits gained more power during this time, able to possess people and haunt them however they pleased.

You were far from believing such superstitions; they never seemed to match well with coincidence, yet they managed to trick so many people. After reading a book about your family's history, you noticed how most of your grandmothers had written down all their superstitions, and this "Aughost" was one of the oldest. It was a huge belief of your greatest grandmother that August was when the Gates of Hell opened, making spirits more powerful. That's why none of your family had birthdays in August. No one—except for you.

Most of your family members became overprotective of you, especially when this month arrived. Your birthday was celebrated in such a close-knit manner that you started to think it would just be you blowing out a single candle.

That was until your entire family disagreed with such simplicity and insisted on a proper gathering, though it was always within the safe confines of your parents' house. You rolled your eyes when your aunt handed you a candle, winking at you.

At least one person didn’t believe in such superstition. That person was your aunt, who had been somewhat cast out by the rest of the family for her rebellious outlook, despite what they called the "bad luck of luck" that came with being born in August. She wasn't the only one who celebrated a birthday this month, but she did have it the hardest, being born on August fourth—considered an unlucky number in your family—being a part of her life in more ways than one. Yet, she turned out to be happier in her life.

As the night wore on, your family continued to chatter happily about whatever news they’d heard, the sound of their voices filling the house. The clock near midnight, and as it inched closer to twelve, everyone began to realize your birthday was almost over. One by one, they started saying their goodbyes. There were hugs, warm words, and a few last-minute gifts handed your way. Each person thanked your parents for the party, wished you well, and offered some kind of reassurance about the month ahead.

Finally, the house grew quiet. The rooms that had been filled with laughter and conversation now only echoed with distant footsteps and the gentle closing of doors. You climbed the stairs, hearing the last goodnights from downstairs.

In your room, you pulled out your cake from the mini-fridge, a small, simple chocolate cake with a single candle. Like mentioned, they do not want to grab attention from the said evil spirits that might lurk inside the house and stay with you for the rest of your lifetime. The clock ticked softly in the background, the long hand inching toward twelve again, but this time it was nearing three o’clock in the afternoon. You stuck the candle into the cake, the room now bathed in soft darkness.

“No one’s gonna know,” you whispered, placing your palms together. The room enveloped you in stillness, the flickering candle casting shadows that danced around you, as if the spirits themselves were watching. As you wish inside your head before blowing your candle at the same time, the long hand finally met the small one in the middle. 

Your clock made a soft ding, you chuckle putting your cake away. Shaking your head, “Nothing happened.” You walk back towards your bed, tucking yourself in before endless dreams consume you.

The next day, your mom talked to you about her rules for keeping bad spirits at bay. You tilted your head in curiosity, tucking your legs underneath your hips as she pulled out a small book titled Aughost. You chuckled at the title, and she did too, flipping through the pages.

"Don't laugh at it," she said, trying to sound stern but with a smile tugging at her lips. "Your great-great-grandma thought it through so thoroughly." She exaggerated the 'so,' and you couldn't help but laugh again.

"Okay, here’s the list. As much as possible, never do any of these at night." You frowned, leaning over the makeshift coffee table. She shrugged. "I’m not entirely sure why, but it must have scared your great-great-grandma a lot."

You looked at the writing: Follow these three steps to keep bad spirits and demons out of your home.

“First,” she read, “you should never hang up your laundry at night. I know it sounds strange, but the smell of your scent is still fresh, and it could literally lure in those spirits.” You nodded.

 The past few weeks have been exhausting. Your boss was relentless, demanding reports on rates, sales, and everything else yesterday, throwing your department into chaos as everyone rushed to meet deadlines.

By the time you got home, you were drained. You sighed, tossing your bag on the couch, then headed to the fridge for a water bottle. Collapsing back on the couch, you let out another deep sigh.

“I cooked last night, so dinner’s sorted. Water the plants… take out the trash… Oh, crap, I forgot the laundry!” You jumped up, rushing to the laundry room. You dumped the dirty clothes onto the floor and threw the clean ones in the machine. You quickly opened the window and started hanging the clothes to dry outside.

When you were done, you tidied up, changed into pajamas, and settled down to eat while watching an old movie—your comfort zone. “Yes, Mama, I’ve eaten dinner,” you said later, juggling your dinner and a Facetime call with your mom. “I’m just finishing up the last report for my boss. We have a board meeting tomorrow, and Ms. Kang wants me there in case Hongjoong can’t make it because of his winter cold.”

As you typed on your laptop, you suddenly heard one of your windows slam shut, startling you. Your mom noticed your flinch and leaned closer to the screen. "What was that?"

You looked at the closed window, then went over to prop it open again. “It’s just the wind, Mama. It’s pretty gusty even with the chilly weather.”

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Why do you have your window open at night? You never know when a burglar might come in and cause havoc!" You chuckled, giving her a playful look. “Mom, I live in the middle of the building. Who's going to climb up here?”

“Aigo, talking back to your mother now? What if something happens to you? You’re thousands of miles away! What if—”

Before she could finish, your father’s face appeared on the screen, gently pushing her aside. “Hey, my lovely flower, how are you?”

“I’m doing great, Papa. Did you get your maintenance done?” You heard him shush your mom as she continued fretting about your safety. He rolled his eyes with a raised eyebrow. “Honey, she lives in the middle of the building. How would that even work?”

“They could use ropes like in the movies!” she insisted.

You laughed loudly, unable to take her anxiety seriously. You adored your mom and her overprotectiveness, always listening to her concerns, but you knew when to brush them off. Your dad often reminded you that it was just her anxiety talking, and there was no need to worry too much.

You chuckle loudly, not being able to take your mother’s eeriness seriously. You adore her and her overprotectiveness, you also always listen to her concerns and such but to this point, you always brush it off as your father always updates you that it is because of her anxiety that speaks and that you have nothing to think much more about. 

As you speak to your father, a sliver yet translucent hand hovers the window of your room before vanishing like glitter being blown off from the hands into the winter of the night.

“Second,” she looks at you then back to the book, “Do not whistle at night.” 

You bid the cafe owner a soft thank you as you push the door open to exit with your paper bag full of bread. The cafe is different as it is called a ‘midnight cafe’ almost similar to a convenience store but sells bread and biscuits and other pastries instead. The owner is a friend of your neighbor, somehow meeting them whenever you come home and crossing paths with them on the street as they close.

“Here baby … I’m here, mommy’s here.” You heard a cry of a mother, though by the looks of it, it is someone around your age or older or younger but nevertheless, they were crouching down as if looking for something. Perhaps, a pet if it's that low of a posture if finding a child. You walked past her though, you felt a grip on your elbow and the face of a woman came into your view.

Her eyes were shaking, red with tears in the corner already giving away with her wet eyelashes— her pet must have been missing for almost an hour. With your other arm being preoccupied with the paperbag of pastries, “Have you seen a black cat? He has a sharp pointy ear and white tail on the end of their tail?”

You felt your stomach falling as her eyes were brimmed with tears as her eyes swell with tears again and a small intake of air— her heart must be breaking and hope falling as she sat down on the sidewalk, hands on her face as she cried. You start to worry and gain a little bit of lookers as they hear her softly sobbing. 

You retreated a little bit before entering your apartment. You know deep down looking for a black cat at this time is like looking for a needle inside the hay, although this could be a little helpful as they could respond to the voice of their owner.

But seeing the situation, it must have focused on something that tunes out the voice of their owner. 

Placing down your paper bag, you open the window of your living room and turn on the television as a background noise while you create dinner. You were patient with stirring when the television suddenly glitches then switching to the news channel about an idol being in a critical condition, almost showing no recovery. You frowned, turning around.

“—The doctors have spoken about showing heart rate increase as a sign of recovery. They spoke about the patient having the normal rate for the past year and half that today, marks a new sign for them and hope. This is Rachel Lee, reporting from JYP entertainment.”

You shake your head, not really knowing about the issue nevertheless anything with the life of celebrities. They may have the talents but the job is considering the whole life aspect draining. You find it amusing yet concerning as this really took toll on most idols who live, including this one although it is more in nature accident. You hear about this idol and their group travelling back from their shoot and rain came pouring down, pulling on a pit stop until a delivery eight-trailer truck pulled up behind them and crashed on them.

Four of them were severely injured although being able to recover a year later except for one of their members. They have been unresponsive. Never made a sign. 

“Meow” Your ears perked up as you ate the dish you made. You look over the small counter towards the view of your living room, your television is on a drama not a cat show unless there was but it is in an intense fighting scene. 

“Meow.” You stood up, placing your spoon down as you navigate your living room. You looked under the couch, the coffee table, behind the plants and the television until you heard a small ‘mew’ near the window and you were met with a feline. It’s head peeking from above. Your eyes widen, staring at the cat before hurriedly walking towards the window and poking your head out to examine it better.

It is indeed a cat, a black one. It seems to be resting on the small space above your window. You frown, looking around to look for an open window but you see none, your eyes return to the cat who had his head tilted to the side, curious about you. You notice the tail wagging side to side, almost noticing the color at the end of the tail.

You tried to lure in the cat, pursuing your lips together to make a small pitch kissing sound to call but the cat only meowed. You were growing anxious as it rested comfortably on top though it could still be caught by the small terrace but it is still not safe.

Pursuing your lips again, a small whistle came out of your lips and the cat jolted up and meows before jumping down on your open arms, “Oh my gosh! You're scared!”

You walk back inside your living room not being able to comprehend a presence nearing you, reaching out for you— fingers grazing on your back but you were so focused on the cat in your arm. 

“... help me.”

“And last,” you look at your mother, “there’s only three?” She nodded. 

“Yes, they said that humans tend to be easy to lure.” You nodded, glancing at the book again to check what is the last on the list, “Okay, the last is do not pick up any lost coins you find in the streets or anywhere.”

You had just clocked out of work, waving at your co-workers as you headed toward the bus station. The bus arrived on time, and you thought it would be a smooth ride home until you found yourself stuck behind an elderly grandfather at the tap card machine. His card balance was low, and he fumbled with his wallet, pulling out a handful of coins to pay.

It took a while making the driver grumble impatiently, the elderly was pressured, and just as he was almost done, one of the coins slipped from his hands and rolled outside, coming to a stop against a bench on the sidewalk.

“Hey ajussi, if you’re gonna count more might as well wait for the next bus.” You frowned, not liking the attitude.You finally stepped forward and offered to pay for the grandfather, handing the driver the fare with as much as a polite nod before guiding the elderly on the seats. He thanks you for being patient and tries to pay for your fee but you decline his offer and keep it instead, for his grandson. 

Later, as you walked back to your apartment, you noticed a coin glinting on the pavement—a won. You hesitated, tempted to pick it up and add it to your coin jar, which you’d been slowly filling to the brim, planning to cash it in someday. You bite your lip, tempted before you stomp towards it and pick it up and cheer softly. 

As you walk towards your apartment room, you notice how the hallways become longer and colder. Unlike whenever you pass down here it is lively with the sunset color of the side lamps. Your pace slowed when you were nearing your room. You only now realized how the temperature seems to drop just in front of your room.

Your hand hovers the knob, it is almost like it's biting on your skin and you move to twist it and enter your room. It is not out of exaggeration when you feel a shiver run down your spine when you step inside. You pulled your coat tighter around you as you placed down your bag and turned on the heater, although with it running it still felt cold. 

That is until you felt something staring at you from the corner of your living room. It felt as if someone was standing, staring at your every move. You felt all of the hair on your body standing up as you stared at the lurking figure on the corner. Your irises shrunk, your entire skin was now shaking and your insides were churning as you do notice it is moving.

Towards you.

You were frozen, in fear. You watch it in fear as it nears you and actually stops a few feet away from you. When the moonlight finds an angle and shone your dark apartment room, you are met, instead of a horrifying face, you are met with an actual human face. 

A familiar face. 

“Hi, sorry for intruding in your home, it’s really been hard for me to find people nowadays that still have this what they call a third eye and somehow I stumble upon you. At first I thought you were just a normal person— please I do not judge— but yeah you match the match of this ajumma that helps me that could help me in going back to my body. I’m Jongho, by the way.” 

“WHAT THE FU—!”

[rxttenfish]

AMA question: Miranda, what is your favourite fairy tale? And do merfolk have stories that could be considered “fairy tales”?

[Transcript: Well, that depends on the criteria you wish to use! If we are speaking strictly, then we have none! These are all landfolk tropes, and we have no such thing as "fairies" in the folkloric sense.]

[Transcript: But there are some similar structures... Lots of stories deal with house spirits, and those who deal with the spirits to enact magic! Like purposefully insulting the whale animus to drive it off, and someone needing to charm it back! Lots of mythical hero-lines, but they mostly save villages or towns, not singular princesses... I am supposed to be a god-embodiment, but we rarely get saved... Or curses upon us, mostly we curse evil-doers at the end of stories. And the Atlantics have the ghost of their hero-era that gets slain...]

[Transcript: And, my favorite is the Lindworm Prince! It reminds me so much of our family-structure, and I like how it is the scaly one who is the princess!]

Since merfolk are so collectivist, most of their stories focus less upon individuals, and moreso upon communities or groups. There are very few stories about singular merfolk, but many about a specific group of merfolk who were one soul split into many, or multiple embodiments of different concepts, or one specific group of merfolk who were all blessed by a god or spirit, or one group who is all an incarnate of one god split into many bodies. These groups are the ones credited with different heroic tasks, with only some cultures placing importance upon who within those groups did what. These are usually meandering tales, detailing exactly how who knows who and in what way, made worse by how the antagonists of such stories are also mostly groups, sometimes of merfolk, oftentimes of monsters or spited spirits.

Likewise, the majority of merfolk religions are animist, placing souls within all animals and all plants, all the way down to inanimate objects, concepts, geography, and times. You might call upon a specific soul to enact a specific task, but these souls might also grow irritated or spiteful, even depressed, and will change and alter the behavior of their charge accordingly. Some religions also include a greater animus who preside over all of that kind of spirit, or they might include a "king" of those spirits, or even both at the same time. Sometimes "gods" might be a category of these spirits, but sometimes gods represent grander concepts or exist outside of these spirits, and gods usually can be split down into multiple different gods without breaking their central identity.

This has a high crossover with stories where they might use animals or concepts as a stand-in for merfolk, creating simpler parables and tales that are mostly to teach a moral or explain why something is.

The animals involved are explicitly understood to not be physical, moreso a metaphorical representation of a wider concept, but this also applies to other aspects of merfolk literature. They closest thing they have to the tropes of the princess, of the prince and hero, of the thief, of the king, would be the habit of reusing singular characters from established stories through time, and long extending out past the original story. However, these are much less literal than the human examples. They would not, for example, believe Robin Hood to be a singular person who has lived a remarkably long amount of time and done everything stated in the stories, but rather they would have a dual understanding of the character as both individual and multiple people operating under the same name, forming a gestural community and plurality that extends through time.

(Some merfolk will even explicitly take the name of these characters and believe themselves to be them, in a way that is deliberately calling to mind this temporal miivt'ia. Most other merfolk will believe them and honor this request, but there is still a risk of being disbelieved if they are seen as behaving "out of character.")

They also do not focus very heavily upon romantic relationships, nor view romantic relationships as anything particularly to achieve, only something that exists as a side effect from their existing relationship hierarchy. Very few stories end in any merfolk getting together, and usually it's a miivt'ia who was split apart, or a prophesied group of spirit-incarnate merfolk forming a miivt'ia to bring about blessings and gifts, or, at most, a ul'kiha forming and multiple people becoming one. Ul'kiha do not neatly map onto the idea of soulmates in the traditional sense, because all stories and myths of ul'kiha relationships treat them as one person with two bodies, the same as merfolk think of and are supposed to treat ul'kiha. It's seen as uncouth to treat them as different people, even before the relationship is formed, and the only exception will occur if the relationship ever ends, which always occur after the break happens and never before.

For this, their myths aren't very focused upon family lines, nor do they particularly care about parentage. What does occur is the repeated concept of a continual miivt'ia, kept alive by other merfolk joining it and those born into it remaining in it. How they join still matters, usually in debating if the spirit or god has lost favor with the existing members of the miivt'ia to no longer choose to incarnate into their bodies, and what it means to bring in someone who may upset the original balance of the miivt'ia.

In this sense, the Royal Family and their lineage has more in common with these, as they represent a mythical perpetually-incarnating miivt'ia blessed by a singular god or spirit, who has chosen them specifically and will not incarnate elsewhere, and it is up to them to service and enact the metaphysical will bestowed upon them. In stories, these usually form elite orders or secret groups, or royal families, and often they are used as a deus ex machina to save other characters and groups more than actual characters themselves.